She Can Make Your Wounds Burn
by Scarlet-Passion
Summary: Dean is never angry with Anna. Not really. Cas considers her close to him. Sam considered her an ally. How exactly does her death effect them?


**I'll admit it. I'm a Dean/Anna fan. I really think "The Song Remains the Same" was awesome, but it lacked a little bit of the emotion towards this relationship. I just wanted to do a little aftermath of that episode's events. **

Dean opens his eyes and turns over. He really needs to sleep. He flips over to see the door to the motel balcony open. He automatically draws the knife out from under his pillow and searches the apartment from head-to-toe. When he sees the mini-fridge (with my six-pack gone) he slams it with intentional force.

He storms outside the room. Cas is sitting on banister, leaning against one of the wooden beams barely keeping this place standing. In one hand, he's clutching one of _Dean's _beers. In the other, the six-pack package is hanging from his fingers. "What the hell are you doing?" Dean demands.

Cas turns to him. Dean didn't notice before, but his trench coat is off. His shoulders are slumped and his eyes were foggy. Is he… drunk?

"Cas?"

He laughs, "She used to call me that."

"Ten shots of whiskey won't do it, but three beers and he's hammered," Dean mutters to himself.

Cas' smile is cocky, "This is fucking awesome," he says.

Dean sighs. He has got to be the only sane one here. "Okay big boy. Off to bed."

"I'm not a boy Dean," Cas' voice returns to normal for a split second, "and I'm fine."

"Okay," Dean walks over to the case and tears one beer out, "then I might as well have one." Dean takes a sip. Cas continues to look off into the night. They stand there for ten minutes. Dean ends up sitting on the floor and staring off into the distance.

He is almost asleep when Cas finally speaks. "She was my best friend."

Dean remembers that a "she" had been mentioned before. "Who're you talking about?" he asks, taking down another sip.

"Anna," Cas replies.

"Oh." Dean has nothing to say.

"She was like my sister," Cas says, "she was always so opinionated. Strong. Free-minded."

Dean just listens.

"She never cowered at anybody's hand," Cas continues, "unless you count Michael."

Dean looks up, "What do you mean?"

Cas is still looking out at the buildings surrounding the motel, "She practically worshiped him," he laughs, "because he's the only one with any sense."

How is this funny?

"Ironic how the only person she believes in was the one to destroy her."

Dean just listens.

"It's just… sad."

Dean is getting annoyed with himself, now. Shouldn't he be bashing her? Treating her like Ruby? She was a bitch. She was going to end everything Dean and Sam had done. Everything Mary and John had done.

Well… her intention was understandable. She wanted to keep the apocalypse from coming. Hell, Dean knows he and Sam were willing to give up everything to keep their planet safe from the crap those freaking hammers can't handle on their own.

But… Dean wasn't angry.

"I know it was necessary," Cas says, "and damn it! I know she had to be stopped!" his tone was rising, "but did she really have to…" his voice shook, "have to…"

"Die?" Dean asks.

Cas nods.

Dean stands up. He walks over to the broken angel. He rubs Cas' back as a gesture of comfort. Dean looks down at Cas' face. There are tears running down his cheeks. Envy for his brother came up. At least _he_ was a happy drunk.

"Michael didn't even think twice," Cas laughs cynically, "didn't even bother to consider locking her up."

"That didn't work the first time," Dean points out. It's weird that he feels a pang of guilt immediately after.

Cas doesn't answer. The two men stand there for a little longer, alternately drinking the alcohol in their hands.

But when Cas almost falls over the side of the banister, Dean barely catches him. "Time for bed," Dean says the second time that night.

Cas doesn't fight. The eldest Winchester manages to guide Cas to his bed before having to drop him because of his weight. He collapses, out before his head meets the pillow. Mr. Comatose indeed.

Dean can't go to bed now. His mind is wired and he won't be able to sleep until he's at least downed to beers. He walks back out on the balcony, closing the door behind him this time.

This town is for crap. The smoke in the air is so thick, Dean can barely breathe. Maybe they should've picked the next town over. The only reason they're there is because (and Dean is sure everyone agrees) they need a break. There was just something about what happened on Thursday that shook not only Dean, but Sam, and apparently Cas as well.

Dean is barely holding together as is. Sam is sleeping all the time and Cas has discovered the wonders of alcohol. All that is left is for Dean to keep walking through. The pressure on him is so much, he can't really see how he can walk through each day now. Maybe it's survival. Maybe it's hope.

Either way, this moment was bound to come. Dean clenches the banister, trying to keep himself from falling into the hole in his stomach. It's been there since… since… since he came out of hell. But why is he faltering now?

The answer is simple.

Anna.

She was one of the only angels he could count on. She is the first girl in a while that actually managed… to make him feel something. Only two other people in the History of Dean had ever managed that.

One is dead and the other, Dean discovered a few months ago, is married.

Anna was his last chance. She was his last chance at being happy. The last chance he had of not ending up alone. He spent nights hoping she would show up. He felt that if she was around, it might give him the strength to stand this whole damn mess through.

But none of that is making him fall apart.

It was her betrayal.

Something shakes in him as he back away from the edge of the balcony to the door leading to his room. He slides to the ground and stares out. What is he going to do?

Dean had fallen asleep. His neck is aching when he wakes. It's still dark out. The moon is bright still. Barely a minute must have passed. The pain had left him momentarily. He took this opportunity to go to bed before it raises it's ugly head again. When he stands he hears a sound from his left.

He turns his head to see a scarlet-haired beauty perched (yes, perched) on the railing. Dean approaches her slowly. The moment he touches her, she faces him. Her face is clear. Her hair is pulled back into a lose tail. But the tears rolling down her face confused Dean. "You're alive?" he asks.

She remains silent.

"Anna… are you okay?"

No response.

He touches her shoulder. She shakes slightly. "What's wrong?" he is concerned, "Are you okay?"

Her face is so sad. When she finally speaks, Dean breathes a sigh of relief, "Why do you care?"

He strokes a tear away.

She rips his hand away.

He takes her hand.

She pulls away.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Why do you care?" she hisses, "Why are you being so kind?"

Dean doesn't even blink. He takes her hand again.

"Why do you care?" she clenches her teeth, "Why aren't you throwing me off?" she covers her face with her hand. "Why… w-why…" she sobs, "Why?!"

Dean takes her in his arms. He presses her head into his chest but she doesn't pull away. She sobs quietly. She doesn't want to torture him. She knows he deserves better than that. "I'm sorry," is all she can say.

"I know," he whispers, "I know."

"I know… I shouldn't have…"

He kisses the top of her head. "I know."

He blinks.

He wakes. He looks around. She isn't anywhere in sight. The pain isn't there though. He knows she… she would be sorry. It's enough to hope for. It's enough to stay strong.

It's enough to keep him going.


End file.
